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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24063955">i'll be your slaughterhouse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/radialarch/pseuds/radialarch'>radialarch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:07:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24063955</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/radialarch/pseuds/radialarch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dimitri is a vampire. It bites.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>FE3H Kink Meme</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i'll be your slaughterhouse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>slightly cleaned up fill for a <a href="https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=297180#cmt297180">kinkmeme prompt</a> which devoured me. this is my life now.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Most people don't know about Dimitri. Why would they? He plays at normal—badly, but he does, and that's more than most people ever look for.</p><p>Ingrid knows something's changed. She remembers when Dimitri used to have a sweet tooth, those days she would go charm the cooks out of a treat and come back to share. Sometimes, she met Sylvain and Felix along the way, and, children as they were, they'd sigh at Dimitri's shame at it, like this wasn't something he was allowed to enjoy.</p><p>Dimitri says, when Ingrid asks, that he can't taste things anymore. That he hasn't been able to since Duscur. It's just one more thing the fires took from him.</p><p>Felix knows better.</p><p>—</p><p>Felix is thirteen when Dimitri comes home an orphan. The healers haven't smoothed away the shining burns along his arms yet, and he's quieter than Felix has ever seen him, even the time when he fell out of a tree and didn't make a sound all the way back to the castle, cradling a broken arm. His face is pale and grey, like the ashes are clinging to him still, and he doesn't look at Felix's eyes.</p><p>Glenn comes home in a box.</p><p>—</p><p>It's late, and Dimitri is in the training grounds still, wiping down his lance.</p><p>It's late, and Felix is tired, which is probably why he asks.</p><p>"Does Dedue know?" he says abruptly. They're the only ones here, but Dimitri still glances around in surprise like there's someone else Felix might be asking about <em>Dedue</em>.</p><p>"Know what?" Dimitri finally says, setting his lance down. His voice is even, calm. It's a good performance. Felix hates it.</p><p>"I suppose he must," Felix says. "Since you're not withering away before everyone's eyes. Does he feed you? Too much to find corpses when everyone's watching."</p><p>Felix watches Dimitri go stiff, then angry. "No, he doesn't," he says slowly. "I wouldn't ask that of him."</p><p>That's—surprising. It had seemed obvious. Dedue is loyal in the way that a dog is loyal: blindly, completely. He wouldn't say <em>no</em> if Dimitri asked.</p><p>"So, what?" Felix says, incredulous. "You don't need it anymore? That time—you're really going to say it was your one lapse in control?"</p><p>Dimitri, a limp body in his arms, blood trickling from his mouth. His eyes had been dark and he'd smiled—<em>smiled!</em>—at Felix with bloodied teeth, and Felix had promptly thrown up into the muck already stinking of death. They'd been fifteen.</p><p>"I don't see that I owe you an explanation," Dimitri says with a thin frown. "It's none of your concern."</p><p>"It's everyone's concern," Felix snaps back. "It matters if the crown prince is a dangerous lunatic—"</p><p>A long, vicious hiss cuts him off, and it takes Felix a moment to realize it's Dimitri.</p><p>Dimitri has always been tall; he takes after his father that way. He's usually awkward about it, eager in his desire not to intimidate, that it's a shock to see him now drawn up to full height. He takes a step toward Felix, a strange, sinuous motion, and it takes everything Felix has not to sway with it.</p><p>Dimitri's teeth are bared. They catch the light in two sharp, gleaming white points.</p><p>"You should be put down," Felix says hoarsely, staring at those teeth. "A beast, and you're not even <em>tame</em>."</p><p>For a moment, Felix thinks Dimitri is going to kill him.</p><p>For a moment, Felix thinks Dimitri is going to—</p><p>Then Dimitri turns with a pained noise and leaves, so fast that it disturbs the sawdust underfoot. All that's left is the swinging door and a ringing silence. Felix draws in a breath and tries not to reflect on the fact that his dick is hard.</p><p>He puts the weapons away. He gets back to his room and washes the grime from his face. After he slides into bed, he gives up and slides one hand around his prick, looking up at the ceiling and thinking of nothing.</p><p>—</p><p>Felix understands something about animals, which are simple creatures. One feeds them, earns their trust, and eventually finds in them a straightforward affection. He understands less of people, but well enough. People lie. Sometimes, they lie for long enough that they begin to believe it.</p><p>Dimitri, who is something in between, he does not understand at all.</p><p>—</p><p>For five years, Dimitri is dead.</p><p>Then: he is something worse than dead.</p><p>—</p><p>The monastery is in ruins when the Lions return, but that is something which can be fixed. It is a different question whether Dimitri can be fixed. No one speaks of it, from what Felix in his dark moments thinks of as cowardice and in his better ones as fear. Instead, they discuss what has now become normal things: whether their supplies will hold long enough under an Imperial siege; how to weigh the Alliance's tentative words against their inaction. At the Academy, they had trained for battles. Now, they speak the language of war.</p><p>In the turmoil, pigs have gone wild from nearby villages. Gilbert is arranging for a foraging trip when the thought strikes Felix so forcefully that he turns to the professor and demands, "What has the boar been eating?"</p><p>The professor says, grimly, "Rats."</p><p>—</p><p>Rats.</p><p>Felix has seen the desiccated corpses strewn across the corridors, and ignored them. A stupid mistake; careless. Felix hates being careless.</p><p>Dimitri is alone when Felix finds him, staring at nothing. His eye is hollow; under the great mass of his cloak, Felix can see how Dimitri's form, always lean, has turned leaner still. He should have noticed. He should have been <em>looking</em>.</p><p>Felix sits on a pew. He carefully, deliberately rolls up the sleeve of his left arm.</p><p>"Have you fed?" he says, which comes out too brusque. He tries again. "You should. Take this."</p><p>It's not better, but Dimitri looks up at him then. For a moment, there's no recognition in his face. Slowly, his eye narrows.</p><p>"Felix," he says, in a voice rusty with disuse. The skin on the inside of Felix's forearm is pale, thin. The blue veins show dark in the morning light, and Dimitri is looking with a great, animal hunger. "It'll hurt."</p><p>"I know that," Felix snaps. "That's why <em>I'm</em> here." There are others who might be kind enough to offer: soft-hearted Ashe, Ingrid and her sense of duty. Felix trusts none of them to put Dimitri down should he lose control.</p><p>Dimitri doesn't ask again. He stalks forward—like a predator, Felix has time to think—and then his mouth is pressed against Felix's wrist, his breath wet on his skin.</p><p>It does hurt. The teeth burn sliding under Felix's skin, and Dimitri's grip is iron on Felix's elbow. He can feel the pounding of his pulse in his throat as Dimitri sucks. He tries not to focus on that, and his thoughts, unbound, fracture in all directions. Dimitri on his knees, crowded between Felix's thighs, head bowed in a parody of tenderness. The glint of gold in the hair that brush feather-light against Felix's palm.</p><p>Dimitri's eye is closed. He doesn't move at all except for the quiver of his throat.</p><p>"That's enough," Felix says eventually. He's lost enough blood fighting to know when it becomes dangerous. "No more."</p><p>For a moment, Felix doesn't know if Dimitri will stop.</p><p>For a moment, Felix doesn't know if he wants him to.</p><p>Then Dimitri withdraws, slow. He's licking the red off his teeth, languid like a cat. "Too much?"</p><p><em>Yes,</em> Felix thinks, and says, out loud, "No." It was necessary, which Felix had expected, and bearable, which he had not. "How often?"</p><p>Dimitri, sated, has lost some of the frantic gleam in his eye. "A week," he says. "It gets—difficult, after a week."</p><p>Felix has no doubt Dimitri is well-acquainted with those difficulties. "I'll come next week," he says, and begins to roll his sleeve back down. Dimitri stops him. He presses a finger over the puncture marks, and the pad of his finger comes away bloody.</p><p>"Didn't anyone teach you manners?" Felix snaps, and takes his arm away. The white cloth of his sleeve will stain, but he has done worse to them. "You shouldn't be playing with your food."</p><p>Dimitri sits back on his heels. He looks, for some inexplicable reason, grimly amused. "Is that what you are?"</p><p>Felix was born the second son to the Duke of Fraldarius, which had a certain meaning; then he was not. He could have been a shield, perhaps, had Dimitri not changed. Now, he is a myriad of things, all of which Dimitri has made of him.</p><p>"I'm me," Felix says, more tired than he should be. "Go away."</p><p>To his surprise, Dimitri goes. Felix stays in the cathedral for another moment, breathing, until his erection subsides.</p><p>—</p><p>Felix keeps his appointment. It becomes a kind of habit.</p><p>—</p><p>Felix is trying to avoid his father. This is why, perhaps, he allows himself to be ambushed by Dedue.</p><p>"I understand that you have helped take care of His Highness in my absence," Dedue says, without any hint of embarrassment, and Felix, in the middle of his meal, loses his chance to escape. "Please know that you have my gratitude."</p><p>Felix hasn't gone to see Dimitri since Dedue returned. "Don't mention it," he says, swallowing down a mouthful of water. "I only did what I had to."</p><p>Dedue glances at Felix's left arm, and Felix suppresses a reflexive jerk. Just how much has Dimitri talked? He wouldn't have expected Dedue to be so forward.</p><p>"His Highness," says Dedue, "is troubled."</p><p>Felix snorts. "Tell me something I don't know."</p><p>"I believe His Highness is," Dedue says quietly, "ashamed of what he must do. But he is not afraid with you."</p><p>Felix puts his glass down. It's loud enough that Mercedes sends a startled glance at him. "I'm done here," he says coldly, standing up, and picks up his half-eaten meal. He has not asked Dimitri. He does not want to hear this from <em>Dedue</em>, who speaks of Dimitri like he is a person.</p><p>Dedue doesn't follow him. Felix goes to the training ground and works until he runs out of thoughts.</p><p>—</p><p>Felix was born the second son of the Duke of Fraldarius. He had never intended to become him.</p><p>—</p><p>Before the battle at Enbarr, when the tension is crackling in the air like lightning, Dimitri comes to Felix's tent.</p><p>"Felix," he says. "May I speak with you for a moment?"</p><p>He could say <em>no</em>; Dimitri would leave. Perhaps that is why he says, "Yes."</p><p>They've spoken rarely since his father died. The marks on the inside of Felix's forearm are healed, tiny divots in the skin. Sometimes he touches them and can't put a word to the feeling that sparks down his spine.</p><p>Dimitri comes into the small space with his head bowed: his old trick of trying to look smaller. Felix stays where he is, whetstone in one hand and a knife in the other.</p><p>"I suspect you wouldn't appreciate it if I apologized," says Dimitri. He is correct, so Felix refuses him an answer. "So I suppose I wanted to say thank you, in case—" He pauses. "Well."</p><p>"Don't be macabre," says Felix sharply, putting the tools down. He is not superstitious, but going around confessing his last sins is the act of a dead man. "Just get the job done tomorrow."</p><p>"Perhaps you're right," Dimitri says. His face is so earnest, it's painful to look at. "I can let you rest."</p><p>"Why me?" The question comes before Felix can stop it.</p><p>Dimitri tilts his face, quizzical. "Why you?"</p><p>"You. With me." He is failing spectacularly to explain himself. "You know Dedue would have done it, if you asked. Or the others. They love you enough." He is picking at his left sleeve; he makes himself stop.</p><p>Dimitri considers Felix carefully. "You wouldn't have let me lose control," he says, a fact. "It couldn't be anyone else."</p><p>This is not, perhaps, what Glenn would have done. It is certainly not what his father would have done. But Felix knows his duty as well as Dimitri knows his. Maybe that is enough.</p><p>Felix reaches up for the high collar of his shirt. Tugs at it.</p><p>"What are you doing?" Dimitri says, and he sounds so alarmed Felix nearly laughs.</p><p>"Something you want," Felix says, and tips his head back so Dimitri can see the line of his throat. "Something I want."</p><p>Felix closes his eyes. For a moment, he is tumbling, uncertain and afraid.</p><p>Then Dimitri's hands are on his shoulders. "Felix."</p><p>"Touch me," Felix says. It's easier to say it like this. It's only Dimitri. He has spent years learning how to be afraid and unafraid of Dimitri.</p><p>Dimitri's mouth is on his pulse. Dimitri bites, and Dimitri's thigh is between Felix's own, and there is nothing complicated in this, nothing at all.</p>
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